The rain fell unrelentingly as I made my way up the muddy road. Cascading streams of filthy brown water rushed downward, along the path at my feet. My clothing and boots were completely saturated down to my innermost layers. The conditions were absolutely miserable and many more treacherous miles lay ahead.
I had missed my bus earlier that morning and was informed that there would be no more buses traveling into the river lands until after monsoon season. This could be several days, if not weeks, and I had to make it to the next oracle before sunset this evening.
As I trudged along through the downpour it occurred to me that I did not know exactly where the oracle would reside; only a strong feeling that I would find him or her along this route.
After several hours I noticed fewer people walking along the road with me and those that did seemed to be going back the way I came. Eventually I was walking alone as the road began following a raging river.
The path began to incline upward taking it above the flood plane and I began to notice the beginnings of a levee constructed out of earth and old tires. As I walked further uphill increasing my vantage the base grew wider and a mountain of tires began to take shape. The levee curved with the bends of the river and as I winded the path it seemed to continue on upstream for quite a long way.
The rain slacked off a bit and I decided to scale the levee in an attempt to see how much further the road continued on. As I neared the top I glanced to my right and I saw what looked to be the largest tire I had ever seen. It was still a long way off and higher up but it clearly dwarfed any of the other tires used in this construct. I adjusted my course and began working my way toward the behemoth.
As I neared my destination I observed what appeared to be a person sitting atop the great tire. The individual seemed to be sitting Indian style with their head turned downward. I could not tell if this was a man or a woman and the individual’s attire did little to assist in that assertion.
When I was about 20 feet from the tire I heard a voice call out to me.
“Do’n ya be walkin’ no fader see der.”
I couldn’t place the accent but the voice was unmistakably feminine; very feminine in fact. It was probably the loveliest voice I had ever heard.
“Ya hare meh now? Sti ware ya’er.”
I could barely decipher what she was saying but I got the message. What was this accent?
“I’m not here to hurt you. I’m just curious.” I replied.
“Whad’ya got ta bay karius bout?” she asked.
She lifted her head to take a better look at me but I was still unable to make out any of her features.
“I was climbing to get a better look at the road ahead when I saw your tire. I’ve never seen one so large before and I didn’t expect to find anyone.” I answered.
“Thet gotta bay soom kindi kariusty fuh ya ta jes moch on ep an guh lekkin et sum edders huss.”
It took me a moment to translate what she said but I gathered that she was referring to the tire as her house and that she was accusing me of trespassing. This was no accent that I had ever heard anywhere in my travels and if this was her version of English I knew her native language must be far removed from modern society.
“Please, I’m very sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude upon you.” I turned as if to walk away. “I’ll go.”
“Wadda beg, fet wyt min doin ere fire?”
(What’s a big, fat white man doing here for?)
As odd as her accent was I seemed to have no problem understanding her. I turned back toward her.
“I’m supposed to meet someone soon.”
“Ya crizi wyt min, ya dun mit sumon ayedi.”
(You crazy white man, you done met someone already.)
I gave her a puzzling look.
“Yes, I suppose I have.” I replied. “Are you the Oracle?”
“Crizi wyt min. I’on kno wit yi bi tekkin bot, bit yi bedda com ishide’o ere.”
(Crazy white man. I don’t know what you be talking about, but you better come inside of here.)
She gestured toward the giant tire.
“Inside? Of where?” I was very confused.
She stood up and the cloak fell away finally revealing her face. She was beautiful. Her skin was the darkest shade of brown without any sign of age; smooth but smudged with dirt. Her full, pouting lips seemed to curl into a permanent smile at the edges. Her hair was completely silver and twisted into long, unkempt locks; her hazel eyes peeking from behind.
“Com ishide’o mi huss.” she beckoned me as she turned and then jumped into the center of the tire disappearing from my line of sight.
I walked up to the tread of the tire. Even laying on its side it was at least a foot taller than I. I looked around for a place to climb up. It seemed she used the ancient, worn down tread as a sort of ladder. I reached up, slide my fingers into the groove, found a foothold and began scaling the side.
After a few moments I hauled myself onto the side wall and stood up. I could see a great distance from this vantage and I peered as far down the path as my eyes would allow. The levee continued onward beyond my limited range.
I looked down at the giant tire I stood upon. “What great beast of a vehicle was this tire made for?” I thought to myself. It was about 7 feet wide and at least 30 feet across. “How did it even get here?” I wondered.
“Aye ya comin wyt min?” she called up to me.
I walked to the center and looked down. There she stood, bare feet in the mud, looking up at me with an urgent look across her face.
“Yes.” I answered.
She ducked down and disappeared inside the tire.
I sat down on the bead and slowly slid off into the mud below. What I saw down in that pit took me by surprise.
A sort of curtain dangled down from the bead almost all the way around the interior; a kind of canvas protection from the outside elements. Light escaped from a small partition in front of me.
“Com, com.” said the voice from within.
The rain began to fall again as I bent down and walked into the tire’s mysterious inner chamber.
It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim candle light within but soon I was aware of several shelves filled with many strange objects lining the walls. To the right sat a small table covered in scattered bones, several dishes and a stack of large and very old rectangular cards. There were candles everywhere throughout the interior. Some still burned with tall flames where others were little more than smoldering heaps of formerly molten but now solidified masses of candle wax. I walked the entire circumference of the makeshift dwelling observing many oddities. Strangely I had completely disregarded my hostess as my intense curiosity gained the better of my nature.
“Wey ya com ere wyt min?” she asked breaking the silence.
“You invited me in.” I replied avoiding her meaning purposely.
“Ya kno wha’d ya trine ta due wyt min.” she promptly interjected. “Aye don’a min ya bin innorants tuh ya’self bit donna bi tryna full may.”
Her words seemed harsh but the intention behind them appeared almost playful as if she were teasing me. Shadows cast by the candle light danced across her face and her eyes seemed to glow dimly. The oddness of my surroundings coupled with the slight smell of old rubber and smoldering incense began to affect my easy mindset, yet still I seemed drawn to her.
An eerie smile crept across her face.
“Aye knows whit yi com ere fir.” she said as she leaned forward. “Aye knows wit’all min wans.”
She slowly pulled apart the cloak that she had been wrapped in all along revealing her small but perfectly shaped breasts. My head was swimming and though I knew something was very wrong with this I began to approach her. She leaned back against the wall and parted her thighs revealing her sex. The same silver hair that adorned her head crowned her womanhood in short, tight curls. She glistened with desire.
“Thit’sa gud wyt min. Lit mi tek’m buddens eff’a yi mend.”
Her voice seemed to resonate inside my head though her lips never moved. Nothing but her voice mattered. My task, my life and my entire existence all became unimportant and insignificant. The only thing that existed was my desire for this strange and intoxicating beauty.